


What you want, what you need

by Beweme



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, NSFW, Painful Sex, Regret, Rough Sex, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing, Suicidal Thoughts, failed comfort attempt, guilt complex, like at all, maxwell is not ok, short sex scene, suicidal behavior, things are not discussed properly, wilson tries to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26813479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beweme/pseuds/Beweme
Summary: Maxwell has hard time handling his past mistakes, and doesn't believe he has earned Wilson's friendship or love. Wilson just wants to understand and help, even if he doesn't understand.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	What you want, what you need

**Author's Note:**

> Been having a lot of anxiety and not so healthy thoughts lately, so kinda sorta venting fic, I guess?
> 
> Also I just love writing sad and angsty maxwil in case you haven't noticed. I need to write something longer again with these sad babies ;__;

As per usual, Maxwell found himself in very uncomfortable situation. His life had always been uncomfortable, and being in such situation was not so foreign for him. Didn't mean that he liked it, though, one could never get used to unpleasant things. But at least this time he didn't find himself being in that situation alone. His partner didn't seem to notice his slightly dropped mood as he laid beside him, arms wrapped over his body and kissing his collarbones.

Wilson was not a vicious man, far from it. He'd always try to find a way that would lead to satisfying outcome for everyone, and he wouldn't give up in the face of a failure. No, he'd try, try and try until he either couldn't anymore or got an end result that he was pleased with. That said, Wilson had been very against what Maxwell had asked from him in bed few months prior, and the thing had never been brought up again, because Maxwell felt ashamed and Wilson felt uncomfortable. Somewhere inside Maxwell knew that Wilson wouldn't understand, he was too gentlemanly for such a thing, and Maxwell had been too proud to ask again. So he didn't.

And ever since that one unpleasant time that had lead to a very silent, cold night without any kind of conclusion to things in any level, Wilson had started to adapt to his process again; try to make it so both of them would get what they wanted, and Maxwell had a hunch that the scientist wasn't even halfway done. The man in question kept nibbling his skin, kissing and sucking while Maxwell just lazily moved his hands on his bare backside, grasping a little tighter every time Wilson would go a little bit harsher with either his hands or mouth.

After a while Wilson's lips moved up to his neck, pecking a trail of wet spots on his way to Maxwell's chin.

"You're quiet today." Wilson stated, shifting a bit and seemingly getting a little bit less touchy with his wandering hands. Maxwell caught up quickly and kissed Wilson on the mouth, getting a soft, muffled moan in return. He didn't want to spoil this for the other man, he had agreed to this after all. And it had admittedly been a few nights since they last did anything intimate with each other, so knowing how touch-starved the short man could sometimes be, Maxwell wanted him to have a good time.

A few hot, slippery kisses were exchanged and Wilson had moved his attention back to Maxwell's chest, a little bit absentmindedly this time. Maxwell dreaded that he had something in mind. It was always a 50/50 gamble if it was something nice and exiting or something absolutely dumb and terrible that only Wilson could get up with.

After a while Wilson seemed to have discarded the thing he had been thinking and pulled Maxwell closer, trying to move under the taller man and coax him to take the lead. Maxwell groaned and just kept Wilson on his side, which resulted to small pause form the other man.

"How'd you wanna do it then?" he asked, a little bit irked. Maxwell looked away, shrugging, trying very very hard not to scowl - he didn't want Wilson to have the wrong idea, to think that he was against this... But he couldn't get what he wanted anyway, so why bother.

"I'm serious, tell me what you want. Let's try that." The scientist continued, not caring about his silence, and snuggled his nose on Maxwell's cheek to keep the mood up. Maxwell didn't turn away his advantages, but released the short sigh.

"You know what I want."

"What? No I don- Oh. Oh, that."

Maxwell could almost feel the discomfort in Wilson's voice, and he absolutely heard it. It was enough confirmation for him that Wilson was still against the idea, even if he would've given it some thought. The older man turned his head against the ragged, badly sewn pillow and huffed.

"Yeah, so. No."

"Look," Wilson sighed and lifted himself up on his elbows "It's not that I don't want to please you-"

" _Clearly._ " Maxwell spat, a little bit too sarcastically, and Wilson frowned deeply.

"It's not! I just don't want..."

"What? Don't want to step out of your comfort zone? Don't want to touch me more than you have to? Don't wan to give me-"

"I just don't want to hurt you, Maxwell!" Wilson rose his voice to in both irritation and worry. Maxwell stopped to just stare at the younger man for a while, until eventually frowned just slightly and looked away again.

"... I know." Maxwell didn't succeed to hide the little hurt in his voice. He knew he could be difficult, he knew he wasn't always easy to get along with and he could get on everyone's nerves simply by existing in the same room, but in all honesty he didn't ask for much. He had no right to ask for anything, but sometimes he needed help, sometimes he needed things he couldn't get all by himself. But he swore to all real and imaginary Gods, he did his very damn best to avoid that until it was absolutely necessary.

It was different with Wilson, though. Wilson was someone he wanted to think he could trust when he needed something, no matter how small or big. But of course, Wilson was just another man with limits and boundaries, he was not able to - nor did Maxwell expect him to - always give him what he wanted.

"Are you really sure you want that? I-I'm not judging you! I'm just..." Wilson words died down, and he glanced down to his hands. It was clear he wasn't aboard, at least not fully, and it was enough for Maxwell to let out a slow sigh and turn to lay on his other side, facing away from Wilson.

"Let's just do it like usual, okay?" he muttered, not in nearly as convincing voice as he aimed for, and soon he felt the warm chest push against his back. He expected Wilson to either agree or just say, like he often did when things went awkward like this, that they could just cuddle for tonight. Maxwell was up for either option, so he just laid there silently and gave Wilson his time to make a decision.

"No, I... I wanna try it. If you really want to, I will." a still uncertain, but much more confident voice mumbled to the back of his neck, and Maxwell turned to lift his eyebrow at the other man. Wilson smiled at him encouragingly, and Maxwell could've just melted from his smile. He didn't bother answering, just turning around and kissing Wilson, who returned the kiss shortly before pushing him on his stomach, pressing over him and kissing his ear "Are you really sure you-"

"Just go rough on me. You're already doing it wrong" Maxwell answered with a displeased groan and tried to get up on his knees, but Wilson pushed him back down.

"Okay, I will. Just, tell me if you want to stop at any-"

"I will okay just do it already" Maxwell growled at him. Wilson gave one last sigh and leaned over him, pushing his finger inside his ass and kissing his back. It was not enough for Maxwell, and the older man grunted in frustration "I told you to be-"

Wilson didn't waste any time and pushed two more fingers in and gave a fast, careless thrust that cut Maxwell off and made him gasp out a yelp that turned into hiss of pain in the halfway through as the man tensed up and buried his head on the pillow.

"Is... Is this okay?" Wilson asked, slowing down only a little.

"Yes, just-" Maxwell hissed between his teeth and clenched his fists "I will say if you are doing something wrong."

Wilson gave him a small nod, continuing to thrust his fingers inside his partner who jerked as Wilson moved, letting out sounds of discomfort he tried to suffocate and bury on the pillow. Wilson was already hard from their foreplay, but he couldn't really say he enjoyed this. He enjoyed touching Maxwell and making him feel good, but the thing was that Maxwell didn't look like he was feeling good. Wilson tried to trust him, trust that he would voice himself if he really didn't want to, and after all, he had asked this, so he pushed the thoughts on side and instead started stroking himself, closing his eyes and imagining that Maxwell was smiling while flinching and gasping under him.

The scientist could easily pretend that Maxwell was blushing furiously, trying to hide his face under his hand, his mouth curling in the small smile between the groans and whines. That was better, that was something that Wilson would like to see. He considered pushing a fourth finger in, but instead pulled the rest of them out and adjusted himself on the entrance. Maxwell yelped when Wilson pressed against him, and the noise he made was almost cute. Wilson hesitated for a moment, only for a second or two, until he shoved himself through the still little tight entrance, making Maxwell suck in a high-pitched, sharp breath, and then pushed as deep as he could. The shudder of pleasure run up his spine when Maxwell's skin closed around his member, so hot and wet and soft. It made Wilson close his eyes, pulling back only a little before pushing back in, enjoying the feeling of how deep he was buried and how great it felt, making his senses a tad bit hazy.

Maxwell was still just sucking in sharp, distorted breaths and letting small, quiet noises escape his lips as he pushed his head against the pillow. Wilson pulled further back and slammed himself back in, and felt something rip, a warm liquid starting to drip up in the hole. He waited a second, but Maxwell made no complaint or plea to stop, so he just reached his hand and grasped the other man's hair into his fist, yanking it harshly as he kept moving inside, and this time Maxwell actually let out a beginning of the scream until he bit his lip and swallowed the noise back in.

"Ah, Ma-Max... you feel so good, you, ah..."

"N-no, say that it doesn't." 

Wilson slowed down, his mind clearing up from his bliss "...What?"

Maxwell pulled his chin to his chest, arching his back to hid his face further "Tell me I suck at this, tell me you had it better."

"I uh... You're the worst lay ever." Wilson hesitantly formed the sentence.

"Yeah, that, keep- keep doing that..."

Wilson didn't know if he should. Dirty talk wasn't really their thing, and that was just a weird thing to ask. But, if it was what Maxwell really wanted...

The scientist grasped his hair again, forcing him away from his hiding spot and pulled his head into an uncomfortable angle the same time he fucked harder, leaning over Maxwell to breath against his neck. Maxwell sounded like he had hard time breathing, and his whole body was shaking.

"You're so bad at this that I almost feel sorry for you" he whispered into Maxwell's ear, and Maxwell just nodded in response, too busy trying to hold back his screams. Wilson pressed his lips closer, still keeping up his phase "I've had so much better than you, you're not even that attractive... If you're as bad at relationships as you are at sex then no wonder nobody wants you-"

Maxwell let out a loud, pain filled sob, and Wilson stopped immediately, letting go of Maxwell's hair, and the man's head bobbed down. Wilson pulled back, and after a while he pulled out of Maxwell. The man just shivered on the bedding, his shoulders twitching. Wilson furrowed his brows and crawled next to him, resting his hand on his shoulder. Maxwell flinched from his touch.

"W-why... why did you stop?" he mumbled in between the shaking inhales, and Wilson could clearly hear the thick wetness in his voice when he tried to hide that fact that he was about to cry. The younger man felt a cold feeling in the bottom of his stomach.

"Max, this is not fun for me... and I don't think it's fun for you, either. I am okay with trying out new things, but this clearly isn't making you feel good, not the way it should." he explained, rubbing Maxwell's shoulder with his hand. Maxwell groaned and tried to pull away from Wilson, but the younger man held him down, his rubbing slowing down to gentle petting instead. He could understand that some people liked it rough, he wouldn't be telling the truth if he claimed that he didn't like being treated kind of heavy-handedly sometimes, but it was always good in the end. Maxwell didn't give him any signs of pleasure right now, not like he he should. Wilson knew when Maxwell was feeling good from something he did, and he knew this wasn't one of those times.

"Maxwell, please tell me what this is really about. I'm not judging you, I swear, but just so you know, I'm not stupid either. I can see that this is not hurting you in the fun way, this is not about it. Please, please tell me." he kissed Maxwell's head and snuggled his nose to his thin, graying hair.

"Y-you, you sounded like you were having fun" Maxwell choked out, but sounded less angry and more like he was just trying to pull himself together. Wilson drew his brows together in worry.

"I wasn't. I told you I didn't want to hurt you... I mean it would've been fine if you would've actually enjoyed it, but you didn't, and that's not fun for me." The younger man pulled Maxwell to into his arms and lifted his chin with his hand "Tell me, please."

Maxwell turned his head and closed his eyes, letting a shuddering sigh through his parted lips. How could he possibly explain it to Wilson? Wilson wouldn't understand, he would just get angry, he would... He would laugh at Maxwell, at best. The man curled himself in as small space as he was able to, not paying attention to something Wilson said in a soft voice. Maxwell wasn't even sure if he knew how to explain this. He just needed to hear how bad he was, needed to be kicked down. He could reason it well to himself, that he wanted to hurt like he should, wanted to be put back to his place. Wilson should hurt him, Wilson should look down on him, break him, spit on his hurting body, rub salt to his open wounds...

"Maxwell, please."

The man opened his mouth, but didn't have enough courage to look Wilson in the eyes.

"I... I don't know... I'm... I'm a bad person" was all Maxwell was able to say, all he could even try to explain. Wilson didn't need to know, didn't need to bother himself with this. He wouldn't understand how much it _hurt_ to be touched with such a kindness, to be called precious and loved and be treated like an equal. Wilson wouldn't understand how deep his gentle words cut and how badly his touch burned. It was so good, so nice, it was something Maxwell had always wanted to feel.

Maxwell couldn't possibly deserve anything that would make him feel like that, he didn't deserve to be treated like he was a person. He knew he had done bad things and hurt people. He had done terrible things, terrible, inhumane, unforgivable things... How could Wilson ever understand that Maxwell wanted to suffer rather than heal. How could he understand that Maxwell should be treated with unkind words, being told how he wasn't good for anything, how he was just a waste of space, how he should be grateful that he was even treated like a scum that he was, because even that was more than he deserved? 

He knew he had made Wilson feel uncomfortable, and it was very obvious that the younger man wasn't willing to try this again anytime soon, if ever. Maxwell just had to deal with it then, he tried to remember that he had no right to ask for anything, didn't have right to make Wilson uncomfortable like this.

"Is that what this is about? Getting treated like a bad person because you are one?"

Maxwell blinked, not really sure if Wilson understood, or if he just made a very good guess. He decided to answer in a shrug. Wilson let out an audible sigh and sat up, running his fingers through his mess of a hair and frowning. Maxwell watched him, feeling himself growing cold. Great, now Wilson was hurt. He felt used, he wanted nothing to do with Maxwell anymore. Maxwell clenched his fists and turned his head back against the pillow, only partly keeping an eye on Wilson.

Maxwell had sometimes wondered how long it would take for Wilson to finally get enough. The short man was like a boomerang. No matter how far Maxwell threw him, he would somehow make his way back like he had never even left. He always seemed to somehow turn things around and against all the odds and reasonable expectations returned back to Maxwell, back to give him more undeserved affection and unearned kindness. He was simply _impossible_ to get rid of. No wonder he bested Maxwell in his own game. What a wonderfully idiotic, stubborn person.

"Can you... tell me how it feels?"

Maxwell rose his gaze at Wilson, who was not meeting his eyes, instead staring at somewhere around his chest. Maxwell sucked his lip. Could he? He didn't know how to explain it, how to sound like a sane person if he did. He wasn't crazy, this was normal, he just... he just needed to be punished by someone. He needed to remember, needed to be reminded of what he had become.

"I'm sure that everyone here understands that sometimes you just need to hurt. It numbs the other kind of pain. Nothing more than that" he said, rubbing his hand over his eyes. He had seen so many thing on the throne. In the end, people were only just that, people. They weren't built for environment like this, and sometimes it got to be a little bit too much. Self-harm was something that just happened sometimes. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't good. It wasn't their fault, either. It was just a unfortunate. Just a result of too much pain in one place, and it was easier to direct the thoughts away from pain by giving oneself something that would keep their attention elsewhere. Sometimes it was just a decision between one bad thing and another, and you just had to pick one.

Maxwell knew that, in a way, it was just like that in his case too. The real difference was that he _deserved_ the pain he had to go through. He wanted to hurt so he could somehow justify the times when he was feeling better. He needed to hear how worthless he was so he could feel better when he actually did something worthwhile. And he had gotten used to that lifestyle in all the other fields in his life but this. He had thought that this thing between Wilson and him wouldn't turn into anything serious. It had never been his intention to drag Wilson down with him. He supposed that it had started as a mutual need for a shoulder to cry on, a some sort of security in the world so hostile. And perhaps he had needed the gentle touch after the cruel ways he was handled on the throne, but he hadn't thought it was going to last.

It was not meant to last.

But it did. The days turned to weeks turned to months, and Wilson would still stick around, would still lend him a gentle hand and kind words. And somewhere around that time Maxwell had realized just how royally he had fucked up. The more time they spent together, the more intimate and deep their relationship grew. And the more that happened, the more Maxwell realized how every touch he got felt like a reminder of his own foul and gross deeds, how every tender kiss reminded him how abysmal he was, how the words Wilson would whisper in his ear would pierce through him like spears because he had deserved none of it.

Wilson would never voluntarily hurt him. And that was the problem. If Wilson would be cruel to him, would treat him like garbage, that would give him a reason to try to be better. He would have a reminder that he had been bad, done bad things, and he had to work hard to make up for them.

But Wilson was not reminding him of his past, he was not calling him names or ridiculing him. He was not disgusted by Maxwell's touch or angry when he was close. He never implied in any way that Maxwell needed to work harder to get even a fraction of the kindness he gave the older man. No, Wilson gave him so much he didn't deserve and wanted nothing in return.

To try to explain all of that, try to make him understand... It just wasn't something Maxwell could say to him. It was not Wilson's fault, after all. Maxwell had waited Wilson to say something, but the younger man didn't, just sat there furrowing his brows together, stern expression over his features, lost in whatever thoughts he must be having about Maxwell right now.

"You don't have to trouble yourself with this. Let's just go to sleep, Higgsbury." Maxwell muttered the closest thing he had for apology, and turned his back on Wilson. He had already ruined the night for the other man, so he should stop before he made it even worse. It wasn't so often when Wilson would be relaxed, when he wasn't jumping to shadows in his vision or getting paranoid when the horrors of Constant got to him. Maxwell wanted him to have good time on the days when he wasn't up and alert every damn minute. But no, of course he couldn't let Wilson have a good time.

The magician felt a weight landing next to him as Wilson laid down, and soon the older man felt the warm breath on his neck.

"... Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's not your business."

"Yeah, it definitely is. If you want me to hurt you and abuse you, I think it damn right is my business." the younger man snarled behind him.

Oh, Wilson was angry now. Maxwell was not surprised. His only three moods seemed to be worried, horny and angry, and he circled around them like a clock. Maxwell just scoffed, which apparently rubbed Wilson the wrong way, and the man rolled him on his back and glared at him "Are you seriously that dumb? Do you think I wouldn't care? Is that it, you think I would like hurting you and making you cry?"

Maxwell didn't like showing how weak he was, but he still found himself pressing his back against the fur bedding, trying to sink as low as he could. He was not afraid of Wilson, but Wilson was, in all honesty, a little bit hotheaded and short tempered, and there had been more than one incident when Maxwell had been lucky that Wilson was content to just punching him when he over-stepped his boundaries. So seeing the other man glaring daggers at him, face red from anger, pinning him down, was not something that made him feel particularly safe.

"No, it's not like that, I just..."

"Yeah, you just what? Thought that it would be okay to make me do something bad to you when I already told you I don't want to?"

Maxwell closed his mouth and rose his shoulders up to his ears. He knew it was the wrong thing to do, it was violating Wilson, abusing his trust. Maxwell had no excuse. He just turned his head away, biting his lip. Wilson could yell all he wanted, Maxwell would understand. He would almost welcome the fist of anger too, frustrated and offended act against him would be understandable.

Instead Wilson took in a breath and leaned down, his fluffy hair lowered down on Maxwell's chest and his hands rested on his arms.

"You're such a piece of work..." the scientist chuckled tiredly. Maxwell swallowed the painful lump. Wilson sounded so drained. So exhausted. Maybe this would be the time he had finally gotten enough of Maxwell's antics.

"I am." Maxwell just agreed. Wilson rose his head up, and Maxwell saw a small glimmer in the corner of his eyes. Oh no. No. Maxwell could handle so many things in life, except when Wilson was crying.

Well, he wasn't crying yet, but the threat of tears was there, just a blink away, forming in the corner of his eye.

"Can't I make it better somehow?"

How did Maxwell manage to get this man for himself?

"I don't know... I'm... I'm just..."

"Well, can I at least do something about it?"

Maxwell wanted to shake Wilson and tell him to run. Run as far as he could so Maxwell could not be able to ruin him like he had ruined so many things before. But he couldn't find his voice anymore, couldn't tell Wilson to leave when he was holding him so close, wanting to do something good for him. Something that would be absolutely unnecessary and unwarranted, something Maxwell had not worked for nearly enough to deserve.

"Wilson, I-" the words got stuck. He wanted to say so many things, he just didn't know how. Wilson wanted to help, do something to ease his pain, but Maxwell couldn't possibly ask him to do anything more than he already had. Maxwell almost just wanted to break down and peg for Wilson to just stop caring, that it would be better for everyone. Wilson could make fun of him, badmouth him, use him how he wanted so Maxwell could make sense of this all. That was the only way he was able to justify why he was allowed all of this. If Wilson only told him that he didn't do enough work so he had no right to use any supplies, he would do better. If Wilson denied him food or healing items because he hadn't suffered enough, he would force himself to stay safe and learn to fight better. If Wilson cringed at his touch and told him to stay away, Maxwell would do so many good things to earn his trust and make use of himself, to be deserving of Wilson's kindness.

But no, Wilson just gave it all to him, after what, few weeks? He was so willing to believe that Maxwell was some kind of a _victim_ , that he had suffered and he was better person now, that he just handed his friendship (and later, his love) to Maxwell with little to no hesitation. Maxwell hadn't done anything to earn it. Not nearly enough. _Could he ever do enough?_ It felt like stealing, taking something that wasn't meant for him.

He ended up just staring into the distance with his mouth hanging agape. Wilson moved to lay partly still over him, partly on his side. Maxwell was pulled away from his thoughts, which seemed to be running in circles at this point, when there was a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He blinked at turned his face to Wilson, who just seemed so tired.

"I don't want you to suffer."

"That's the problem."

" _Why?_ "

"Because you should."

Instead of getting angrier, instead of yelling at him, Wilson just kissed him again. The young man's lips felt so soft and slippery, and they moved to kiss his cheek and his temple and his forehead when Wilson pulled him into a hug, grasping him tightly, almost like he was afraid what would happen if he let go. Maxwell was afraid what would happen if he didn't let go.

But he didn't say it out loud, he never would. It was not his place to decide if Wilson wanted to try to make things better. If it gave Wilson some kind of happiness to try to fix him, then Maxwell would let him try his best, even though he knew that Wilson was trying to fix something that was not able to be fixed.

He let his partner mumble things to his ear, things he wanted to believe in, things he wished so badly could be real, but in the end he couldn't accept them, not before he would actually deserve them. Wilson would never understand how undeserving he was of anything at all. He needed to be broken before he could be fixed, but Wilson wouldn't let him break, wouldn't break him no matter how he wished. Maxwell just closed his eyes and laid there, the arms around him trying so hard to comfort him, trying so hard to rub some affection on his cold skin, trying so hard to make him feel better. How could he deny Wilson's well-meant gestures? Wilson just wanted to help. He did everything he could, and even though it didn't help, even though it only cut deeper into his wounds, Maxwell smiled and swept his fingers faintly over his partner's bristle.

"Thank you. I... I feel better now" He lied and pulled Wilson closer. The younger man sighed and kissed his ear, and Maxwell just pulled him even closer, let him think he was making a progress, making something right. Wilson was just doing the best he could, it was not his fault that Maxwell was unfixable.

"...How about we go searching some gems tomorrow?" Wilson mumbled tiredly, and Maxwell huffed out a small laughter.

"That sounds good."


End file.
